Devil's Forgivness
by iilaiia
Summary: It didn't happened like this but wouldn't it have been nice if it had?


Just a bit of complete randomness that came to me as I re-watched Devil's Trap for the thousanth time. Pointless, nothingness ensued. Enjoy.

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Dad was screaming at him, Dean was pleading with him and there was something else there, something dark and evil in the background. Sam couldn't make out most of what they were saying... kill me, shoot me in the heart son, don't you dare do it, no please... The litany didn't make sense. Did Dad think the demon was still in him? Did Dean really think he could kill his own father?

_I know you couldn't._

The words drifted from the back of his mind where the demon sat, amused.

_I just wanted to see that look of betrayal on your father's face. _

Sam would have snarled if he could move, instead he just dropped the colt and tried to pretend he couldn't see the look his father was giving him. He was trying to ignore Dean's muffled gasps from his right. It was hard to focus when there was a demon in the back of your head. The world spun lightly and his father sat up, reaching for the gun. Sam and the demon inside him let his Dad take the gun. They took a step back. Sam felt Dean struggling to rise, to get between him and their father. The demon just smiled with Sam's face into the barrel of the gun. They both could feel the cold metal as it was pressed gently into the flesh of Sam's forehead.

_Remember this Sam. Remember this moment when your burning with me. Remember._

Sam remembered everything. The feel of cool water on his skin when they had gone swimming. Dean had taught him, Dad had taught Dean. He could hear the soft rhythmic sounds of his brother's stereo vibrating throughout the house and how Dad had shook his head and laughed. He could smell the freshly mowed grass in his neighbor's yard one afternoon he had come home from school when he saw his father standing on the porch, waiting for him and had felt a great sense of normalcy. His father smiling at him, his neighbor waved, Dean raced out from the house with a football in one hand and a ... a gun in the other? The moment shifted and Sam realized it wasn't Dean with the gun, it was Dad. And Dad wasn't smiling anymore.

_I'll tell you the best part Sammy. The gun won't work. It won't kill me. So all of this, everything. It's all for nothing. _

The demon laughed deeply, a cutting feeling surged through Sam at the sound but he still couldn't move his body. He could vaguely hear Dean, begging for something, or against something. It was hard to hear anything over the demon's cackling. Still, it made Sam feel uneasy in his confusion, Dean never begged. The demon was still laughing and something inside Sam snapped. Sam's strength flooded him. He had control, for one second, he had power. Weakly and quickly, knowing he had no time, he forced out the two most important things he could think of.

"Save Dean. I forgive you."

The demon roared and grabbed control back but it was too late. The damage was done. John Winchester swung the gun and slammed it hard into his youngest son's face. Sam's head rocked back, his body tilting and hitting the ground with a violent crack. The demon's fury tore through him in waves until it fled him too, vanishing into the air.

And he was free.

Looking up into the face of his father, he croaked out. "Dean, help Dean."

John almost laughed, his eyes red with tears. "That's similar to what your brother's been chanting for the past few minutes now." He held out a hand.

John pulled him to his feet and they both knelt beside Dean. Sam's jaw was throbbing and Dean's blood was darkening the wood. They had to get out of here. "Help me get him to the car." The struggled with Dean and Sam eased him into the back seat. His hand on his shoulders.

"Dean, you okay? You've lost so much blood." Between his father not killing him and the acid scent of Dean's blood flooding his senses, Sam was coming unhinged.

Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I'm fine now." And he was, Sam didn't know how, but Dean's demeanor wasn't broken or shattered. He was calm, he was okay. John climbed in the passenger seat and Sam quickly pulled away from the cabin.

They had been driving in silence for a few minutes, John was leaning, half in the seat, his hand tight on Dean's chest. All of them worried that Dean's blood wasn't clotting fast enough for this trip. It was Sam that broke the silence.

"Dad," John looked over at his youngest and Sam found that now that he had his attention, he couldn't put this into words easily. "I just want to tell you, I just wanted to say... thank you."

John's eyes darkened a little bit. "Did you just thank me for not killing you?"

Sam was surprised at the confusion there. "Just... that I..." He trailed off. Yeah, he was glad that his father hadn't killed him but he really didn't understand it. "You know the demon was inside of me? You did know that, right?"

"What did I tell you in Colorado?"

Sam narrowed his eyes... what HAD he told them? "That we'd disobeyed a direct order..."

John snorted. "Yeah, chose now to have a selective memory. No Sam, Dean" he said, looking at each of them in turn. "I told you that you boys were all I had left. I sure as HELL am not going to lose either of you. We're strongest as a family."

The car when silent again and Sam glanced at Dean in the rear view. Dean, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth to reduce the pain. Dean, cut to ribbons who had never looked so pleased. Sam smiled. "Then yes, I did just thank you for not killing me."

John cocked his head and shot him a weird look. In the rearview, Dean smiled as best he could. And they were strong. Strong enough to hold up under any attack, any past traumas and even strong enough to survive the impact that shock the Impala when the semi hit it. Because together they stood finally united.


End file.
